The Craving
by syd-chanz
Summary: An alternative look at what happens to Edward and Bella after Eclipse; What happens when everything doesn't go exactly as planned?: Mature content in later chapters.


Continuation

_This first chapter I have written was a reward to myself. I went and took a physics final today, it had its way with me, and so I started writing to make myself feel better. It's so strange to start writing fanfiction again after being out of the game for so long! Agh! I went back and read all of my old DBZ fanfics earlier. I was such an otaku. I can't help but feel a little embarrassed at my irrational exuberance. ;P but ahh well, enough of my rambling._

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything created by Stephenie Meyer. The End.

**Chapter One**: **Tin Foil**

Charlie took a sudden sharp breath, like he had been hit unexpectedly in the chest with a medicine ball. The plain and simple shock that had initially covered his face was suddenly replaced by the look of creeping realization… Then came the anger.

His eyes narrowed sharply and flickered between Edward and myself, daring one of us to be the first one to speak. He was still wearing his officer's uniform, his gun still resting in its sling at his side; he hadn't even been home long enough to take it off.

The silence that followed was palpable, and I immediately began to regret my decision to open my big fat mouth in the first place.

"I must have heard you incorrectly, Isabella." His voice was deadly quiet. Charlie was not a cop now, nor my normally blundering guardian, but my father, drawn up in all his paternal authority. My hands were sweating profusely, even in Edward's icy grasp.

I took a slow breath to steady myself before speaking. "We're engaged, Dad." The words came out more meekly than I wanted them to, but it felt like the softer I spoke, the less angry Charlie would be.

He made a sound of disbelief and turned around to lean against the kitchen counter, his back to us, staring at the dishes I'd cleaned that were drying in the sink. The back of his neck and the tops of his ears were a deep shade of red.

Edward squeezed my hand gently and I glanced over at him, but he didn't meet my gaze. His dark golden eyes were fixed on Charlie's back, and there was a strange look on his face that I couldn't quite decipher. Something like confusion, or was it guilt? I didn't have time to ruminate on it.

"Why are you doing this?" Charlie had spun back around, back in Officer Swan mode. He locked eyes with Edward as he spoke, narrowed with so much unbearable dislike that I was taken aback. It was as though the room had taken on a sudden awkward chill and I knew I couldn't have moved in that instant if I wanted to.

"Charlie, don't,-"I started, but he spoke again to me, more loudly, his voice saturated with incredulousness. "Don't you know how much of an awful decision this is?"

"Dad, Edward and I have already discussed this," I said indignantly, "Don't you-"

"No, Isabella. You listen to me, because I speak from experience. Getting married could be the worst possible thing for you to do right now! You're 18-years-old! You're not even in college yet! Are you just going to throw that dream away?" he took a couple steps toward us. Edwards eyes were locked with Charlie's, filled with a sort of transient calm.

"I love your daughter, Charlie. I will follow her and support her wherever she decides to go to school." The way he said it made it hard not to believe.

"Dad, there's no decision left to make," I resigned. Charlie's eyes were beseeching me to see reason. He kept opening and closing his mouth, a shadow of the former authoritative police figure.

"I don't know what I can say to you." My father was speaking only to me. It was as though Edward wasn't even in the room anymore. "I don't know what I can tell you to make you understand this. When your mother and I…"

"Charlie, I'm not Renee. Edward isn't you." my voice was weary, pleading with him to see reason. "You asked me to tell you if I decided to do something huge, and Edward and I have decided to make a commitment to each other. I know you don't like it, I know you think it won't work, but this is the way it's going to be."

He put his thumb and forefinger up to wearily rub the bridge of his nose. With his eyes closed tightly, he released a heavy sigh. It might have been my imagination, but he looked much older in that instant than I had ever seen him; the premature wrinkles in his weathered face were painfully emphasized. I wanted to hug him.

"You'll do what you want, Bella." And with that final remark, he turned and trudged wearily out of the kitchen and up the steps.

"Dad…" I stood up from my chair and watched him go, wishing he would yell more. I wished he would kick me out of the house. The guilt welled up within my chest, and the deep breath I exhaled didn't ease the painful tension that was pushing against my rib cage.

It wasn't that I regretting agreeing to marry Edward- far from it. Hurting my father's feelings was like chewing on tin foil; I avoided it at all costs, and now that it had happened, it was so painful. If he had just been rude and angry it would be much easier to feel better about myself.

Edward stood up silently beside me, never easing his frozen grip on my hand. He was ghostly, hollow. I could tell that he was bothered by the whole experience and that we would need to have a long talk later. For once, silence between us felt like the correct option.

I didn't have to tell Edward that I wouldn't be staying at my father's house that night; He didn't have to ask me what I wanted to do. His arm just slipped quietly around my waist and we walked out the front door.

We were in the Volvo, on the road, and pulling into the driveway of the Cullen house before I could even register a coherent thought. It was the tail-end of June but the night was still unseasonably frigid. I barely registered this as Edward opened the passenger side door and helped me to my feet.

He had been completely silent for the entire drive and was silent still as we walked up the path and made our way through the ornate threshold; my new home. Ugh… It was weird to think about it like that. I made a mental note not to.

The vast, glamorous living room was curiously empty; it took me a second to remember that the family had decided a much-needed hunt was in order, what with the vampire-killing and the werewolves and the Vulturi. Privately I was thankful that they were out of the house at this particular moment. I didn't necessarily want to have to relay the story of how Charlie had taken the news of our engagement.

We made our way up to his room where I unceremoniously let myself fall face-first onto the golden covers of the ornate iron-wrought bed. With an exhausted groan, I exhaled into the silky material and closed my eyes, which were aching with fatigue. How long had I been awake? It felt like days and days, I couldn't even remember correctly.

I felt the mattress shift downward slightly to my right where Edward had sat down to join me. His cold fingertips caressed my back very gently, causing an inexcusable number of goose bumps to erupt all over my skin. We sat there for a few minutes like that; I could have laid there forever, but Edward finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry for all of this…" His smooth amber eyes were troubled when I turned my head to meet his gaze. The corner of his perfect lips was turned up into a sad half-smile, which was short-lived. I sat up slowly, almost too tired to hoist myself into sitting position, and rested my forehead against the crook of his shoulder. His arms encircled me automatically and I felt much more alert.

"We knew how Charlie would react," I began, groggily; "There wasn't really anything we could have said to keep it from going the way it did. All in all, the fact that he didn't try to attack you makes it a successful evening." He sighed and let his fingers run absently through my hair.

"Oh, he was thinking about it," Edward said, matter-of-factly, "He wanted to hit me very badly, but he decided against it."

We were quiet for a long time. I preoccupied myself by playing with my ring, turning it around and around the fourth finger on my left hand. Edward watched the sparkles dance off the center stone; I didn't have to look up at him to know he was doing it

. "I'm going back in the morning after he's had a chance to calm down…"

"Bella," His voice was soft, hesitant, like it always sounded when he was about to say something that he wasn't sure of, "Are you sure you want to marry me?"

I scoffed in disbelief and removed my head from the crook of his neck, meeting his gaze with complete incredulity. "Edward, where have you been for the last hour and a half?"

He looked puzzled, his perfect brow creased in confusion. The sheer beauty of him almost side-tracked me, but I shook my head slowly as I continued. "I went against my instincts and told my irrational father that I'm engaged to you. If I didn't want to marry you, I don't think I could have found the balls to even think about telling him."

Edward's turbid expression was suddenly sullen, and he looked to the floor.

"I can't help but feel like I've pressured you to this point," he said, fiddling with the button at the cuff of his shirt. "Charlie thinks the exactly same thing. It was… Impossible to ignore his thoughts when we were in the kitchen. His head was practically screaming at me." Edward's face couldn't mask the guilt he felt, and it made me feel even worse as he continued on. "The guilt was unbelievable, listening to every doubt. And knowing that he's sort of right… made it all the more difficult."

"What do you mean 'he's sort of right'?"

He gave me an exasperated look before replying, "Well, think about it, Bella. You've had more broken bones since you met me than you have in your entire life. You've been millimeters from death. How in the world am I supposed to assure him that I'll take care of you when my track record is so… unfavorable?" I stammered, annoyed, but he added, "And after I… change you, you're not coming back to Forks. The worst thing is, Charlie knows that he's never going to see you again after we're married."

"Don't even get me started on you and your… Track record? And I don't know if you realize this or not, but I probably would have gotten hit by a bus by now anyway, so you being around isn't exactly making my chances any worse." My words were spilling out of my mouth much faster than normal, eager to assure him of his ridiculousness.

"If anything, you've kept me alive longer. As for broken bones, well, I don't necessary think that will be a problem in a few weeks when I would just as soon break a semi-truck in half than break a bone."

He chuckled a little at this and took my hand into his, stroking the side of it with his thumb. I continued my rant.

"And of _course_ I'm going to see Charlie again!" I said indignantly, "I know I'll never see him as much as either of us want to see each other, and definitely not until I can control myself as a vampire, but-"

"Bella, what's going to happen when Charlie gets to be seventy or eighty years old?" Edward asked gently, "What's going to happen if he sees you and you still don't look a day older than eighteen? What about Renee?"

I felt a lump swell up in my throat at the thought of me standing next to my wrinkled, elderly parents in all of my eternal youth and beauty, and their confusion. I sighed and again rested my heavy head on his shoulder.

"Charlie and Renee are strong, and so am I. We'll miss each other, obviously, but this is my decision to make, and I've made it."

"You would so soon trade your relationship with them for an infinite number of years with me. It's baffling."

"I don't see what that has to do with me being sure if I want marrying you." I muttered.

He brushed his chilled lips against my cheek, "You are the most confusing creature. I am happy…" he paused, kissing my nose thoughtfully, "That you seem so suddenly determined to be my wife, but I want to make sure it's _you_ wanting it. I don't want you to marry me just because it will make me the happiest person on Earth."

I took his stunning face into both of my hands; our eyes locked together and I could almost see the gears turning behind his ravishing golden irises. Here he was, armor laid down, begging for a glimpse into my head. I obliged and spelled out for him the precise contents of my thoughts.

"Edward Cullen, I have made my decision. You are my soul mate. I don't want to spend another minute of eternity without you. You and I both know we were going to get married at some point; it might as well be now rather than fifty or sixty or a hundred years from now."

He beamed at me dizzyingly and he drew his face close to my own. "All right, we'll get married. Calm down."

His hands slinked slowly down to my waist and before I knew it, Edward was on his back and I was pulled on top of him, my heart hammering against the ribs that kept it caged inside my chest.

In an instant, my fingers buried themselves into his coppery hair and our lips were crushed together in a fashion that he did not normally allow. His perfect, Michelangelo-carved hands gripped down sides of my thighs as I straddled his hips; I was sure that if I hadn't been wearing jeans, every inch of the skin that he touched would feel as if it were on fire.

His marble lips were urgent against mine. I could taste the sweetness of his venom, like something between wintergreen and a mild vanilla. Whatever it was, it was bliss. Our ministrations grew more intense and I broke the kiss to run my tongue lightly along his bottom lip before biting it, very gently, because I'm sure I would have chipped a tooth if I did it too hard.

After several short minutes of this, Edward was breathing rather heavily (though, of course, not nearly as heavily as me) which was a sure sign that at any moment he would chuckle ruefully and lift me off of him, ready to continue being ridiculously chaste. Ugh.

I dragged the palms of my hands across his perfect chest, trying to savor the last few minutes of authentic sexuality and wishing vaguely that he would go around shirtless more often… But the sheer intensity of him did not wane.

His hands, hot or cold, I couldn't tell, gripped the sides of my thighs and I felt him push his hips instinctually and urgently against mine. His lips parted and I could feel his tongue on mine, our kissed deepened fiercely. My head was swimming; it was simply too much to bare. Before I realized what I was doing, I was undoing the buttons of his cotton shirt, my shaking fingers fumbling.

He didn't stop me. His hands slid up from my thighs to my hips, and his hands moved deftly underneath my shirt to the small of my back where they pulled me closer to him. I couldn't see straight behind my own eyelids. We didn't need mind reading abilities; it was distinctly evident that we wanted each other in the most desperate of ways.

I kissed a fiery hot trail down his neck and across his collar bone; he shivered involuntarily and his glacial hands once again lost themselves in the depths of my hair.

Instinctually, I pulled my lips downward, kissing his perfect bare chest; a flawless ice sculpture. I willed my mouth to trace further down across his pristine abdominal muscles; my tongue circling his navel sensually.

"Bella…" He gasped, almost inaudibly. It was the most amazing kind of torture; him responding to me this way. I wanted him to say my name again. My lips inched down, kissing across the delicate trail of hairs above his beltline. My hands hadn't even reached his belt buckle before I fell flat on my face into the soft golden fibers of the bed spread.

Edward had darted out from beneath me quicker than you can say 'blue balls!' and he was leaning against the wall at the opposite end of the room, one hand resting against his forehead. His breathing was as ragged and heavy as I had ever seen it; the backs of his eyelids were a deep purple; it made him look exhausted.

"Edward, what-"

"You know," he breathed, opening his burning intense gaze to me. "I think you are trying to _make me_ destroy you, Bella Swan."

The beauty of his eyes nearly knocked the wind out of me. The way his beautiful molten-gold eyes were pouring into mine, even at a room-spanning distance, made it undeniably clear that stopping me had been excruciatingly difficult for him. It took me a few moments to get my head on straight enough to say anything.

"Again, I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his eyes as I stood myself up and began to walk over to him where he stood by the doorway. His voice was soft when he spoke again, bordering on trembling, "You haven't the slightest idea of how hard it's getting to control myself."

"Oohh, why? Do I _dazzle _you?" I teased.

What transpired next was so instantaneous that it was happening before the synapses in my nervous system had time to fire my consciousness into action.

My body was sandwiched between the hard wall of the bedroom and Edward's rock-solid figure, our lips locked together fiercely I could feel the surges of electricity crossing through the two of us.

A feral sort of growl escaped him as his hands pinned my wrists against the wall; His hips pressed salaciously against my own. _Oh, hell yes_, I thought; I couldn't hold in the soft moan that escaped me. I didn't want to.

As quickly as it had happened, it stopped. Edward released me and pushed himself away from the wall casually, a wicked smile spread across his gorgeous face.

"Why are you stopping!?" I exclaimed, dejected, keeping my hands up awkwardly where they had been previously held captive against the goldish wallpaper.

He laughed whole-heartedly for a whole moment as I stood there, hot, bothered, and significantly ruffled.

"Trying to save the best for our wedding night, love." His gilded eyes were twinkling devilishly at me. His mouth blossomed into that wide, crooked smile that I loved so much and I made another mental note to practice learning how to react more calmly to his overwhelming perfection.

He winked at me (The nerve…) turned gracefully on his heal and headed out the door.

Defeated, I pulled my mind regrettably out of the gutter, sighed hugely, and followed behind him.

_There you have it! Please leave me some feedback. I take any form of criticism very seriously. If you like it, tell me so. It's so much easier to write more when I have proper encouragement. : s-_


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